A flame went flitting through the wood; The neighboring birds all understood Here was a marvel of their kind; And silent was each feathered throat To catch the brilliant stranger’s note, And folded every songster’s wing To hide its sober coloring. Against the tender green outlined, He bore himself with splendid ease, As though alone among the trees. The glory passed from bough to bough— The maple was in blossom now, And then the oak, remembering The crimson hint it gave in spring, And every tree its branches swayed And offered its inviting shade; Where’er a bough detained him long, A slender, silver thread of song Was lightly, merrily unspun. From early morn till day was done The vision flitted to and fro. At last the wood was all alone; But, ere the restless flame had flown, He left a secret with each bough, And in the Fall, where one is now, A thousand tanagers will glow.
The Scarlet Tanager
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My little neighbor’s table ’s set, And slyly he comes down the tree, His feet firm in each tiny fret The bark has fashioned cunningly. He pauses on a favorite knot; Beneath the oak his feast is spread; He asks no friend to share his lot, Or dine with him on acorn bread. He keeps his...
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A flame went flitting through the wood; The neighboring birds all understood Here was a marvel of their kind; And silent was each feathered throat To catch the brilliant stranger’s note, And folded every songster’s wing To hide its sober coloring. Against the tender green outlined, He...